


Of Secrets and Rings

by lifeofdeathh



Category: Gintama
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I Tried, I hope you like it, Post-Courtesan of a Nation, Winter Festival, and you can probably tell, i write intimacy for the first time, it’s very cheesy, they’re all soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:53:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28212726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifeofdeathh/pseuds/lifeofdeathh
Summary: In the midst of doubts and wonders and nightmares, there comes a winter festival, where a wishing star may just make a wish come true.
Relationships: Hijikata Toshirou & Kagura, Hijikata Toshirou & Sakata Gintoki, Hijikata Toshirou & Shimura Shinpachi, Hijikata Toshirou/Sakata Gintoki, Kagura & Sakata Gintoki
Comments: 13
Kudos: 80
Collections: Gintama Mini Secret Santa 2020





	Of Secrets and Rings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ichigotonyu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ichigotonyu/gifts).



> Happy holidays to everyone and to Juliette Fishfood! To whom I'm gifting this little fic \o/
> 
> I tried my best to keep all the characters in character and to get the HijiGin dynamic right, and overall it was such a joy to write!  
> I really hope you enjoy it, and I'm really sorry if I didn't really capture what you had in mind, but I still hope you can get a bit of a kick out of this one!
> 
> Also a little side note Juliette (I hope I can call you that), I've gotten to know you quite a bit through the Discord, and I just wanted to say that you are the sweetest person and I hope all the best for you!!
> 
> If you'd like to, please tell me your thoughts about this one :D  
> Stay safe out there everyone!

Yamazaki is the one to wake him in the middle of the night with frantic rapping on his door, and he nearly kills the guy with a sword at his throat driven purely by instinct.

“What is it,” he growls, sheathing the katana and smoothing the wrinkles in his yukata.

“Vice chief!” Yamazaki scrambles into a late salute. “I’ve just gotten word, the Yorozuya have returned.”

He makes sure to make a stop at the kitchen before he’s out of the compounds.

**oO0Oo**

He hasn’t seen the stupid diabetic and his two kids since the Shinsengumi turned against the state and set the so called traitors free, but he knows the way that man fights without an inkling of consideration for his own safety, and the way he pushes and pushes and pushes until he reaches the breaking point and then some.

He knows the way he will throw himself into chaos and bloodshed to protect those dearest to him and those who hold him dear.

The Courtesan of Death. Hijikata has seen the way she looks at the silver silhouette and the way she averts her gaze when he’s around, as if to remind herself that he is no longer up for grabs. Hijikata remembers the way she rolled her eyes and dragged the ninja with purple hair away when his and Gintoki’s relationship came to light in a drunken incident, and the way he caught her eye in passing and saw the remorse in them for the fact that Gintoki would not whine to her about not having enough strawberry milk or Kagura’s love life.

But he also sees the way she turns away from him in moments of crisis, the way she closes her eyes and shuts him away so that her resolve would not weaken. She shed her womanhood a long time ago, Gintoki told him once, in order to protect what she held dear in the red lights of Yoshiwara.

In people like that, Hijikata knows, Gintoki finds something akin to himself, and for people like that, he would risk his life and more, even if he knew that Hijikata was a selfish man, and that he would never forgive him for leaving so soon.

Sometimes, Hijikata has to admit, he finds himself wondering whether he qualifies as a man Gintoki would die for.

He finds himself at the bottom of the Yorozuya’s creaky stairs, and makes a mental note to himself to berate the idiot about it later, but right now, he scales them three at a time, and finds himself face to face with silver curls and dead fish eyes, flimsy screen door pushed to the side.

Gunmetal blue rakes him up and down, cataloging everything that he put himself through after they split ways at the prison.

Bandages around his head, torso, arms, probably some on his legs as well, if the crutch isn’t a dead giveaway.

“Jimmy-kun wasn’t very subtle.”

“I’ll have him commit seppuku for failure of his duties.”

Gintoki stands aside, and Hijikata steps into the little attic of a living room. He finds it involuntarily familiar, lightly to his denial and chagrin, but pushes it aside and turns to look the other man in the eyes. He doesn’t rise to the challenge.

He crosses the room and slides open the shoji, keeping it as quiet as he could so as to not wake Kagura.

“You don’t have to worry about her, she sleeps like a pig.”

“She might not if she wasn’t living with such a bad influence.” 

He has such sorrow in his eyes.

Gintoki follows him into his room obediently, almost subdued, and Hijikata slides the door shut behind himself.

They don’t bother turning a light on.

“What happened.”

Sakata Gintoki is a man with many secrets, and Hijikata wants to learn every single one of them, dig through their nooks and crannies until there is nothing about that mysterious silver he doesn’t know inside and out, but Sakata Gintoki is a man he will never truly understand, and he signed up for that the day he cornered him in an alley and black clashed and merged with white.

So he only asks once.

The man looks away.

“I’m tired,” he says. And it’s a fatigue so deep rooted that the kids wouldn’t understand, and even if they did, it is a burden he wouldn’t place on them.

“Then rest.” He rises from the futon, and feels red eyes follow his every move when he sits himself on the ground beside instead.

Again, with that odd obedience, Gintoki slides under the covers, and Hijikata finds himself playing with curls that appear gray under the starlight leaking in through a small window in the corner.

 _Grey hairs in your 20s,_ he thinks. _That’s just about something only someone with a natural perm as stupid as yours can pull off._

 _I’m tired._ The words repeat in his mind, again and again and again. It’s just a few past 2am, the Justaway alarm tells him, and he thinks of the night terrors Gintoki does not tell him about, the ones that wake him at 12 past midnight and leave him staring at a blank TV screen for hours on end before he hears Yamazaki’s unorganized, scrambling footsteps then Hijikata’s hurried yet grounded ones.

He thinks about the past shrouded in mystery and the infamous Shiroyasha. He thinks of the person that had Gintoki throwing himself headlong into the thundering waters of war alongside the three other legendary rebels. But he thinks of the boy, and not the demon.

He thinks of the boy who dragged himself through battlefields and picks through mountains of corpses just to find the one soldier that still had half a breath left, and the boy who carried them for miles so they may grasp another quarter of a chance at life, and the boy who wondered if it was all for nothing.

He thinks of the man that boy grew into, the one who finds a kindred spirit and throws himself into hellfire for them, the one who is selfish and selfless, careful and careless, who is everything and nothing and a legend but a hopeless MADAO.

His fingers keep fiddling lightly with his hair, and Hijikata wonders if it chases away the fears and doubts.

“The woman must be something, huh,” he whispers into the dark. There is silence, like even the crickets have paused their eternal symphony. “You almost got yourself killed, bastard. What were you planning to do? Prance off to the afterlife on your own and leave me on babysitting duty? I don’t think so.” The man is snoring now, and Hijikata thinks it safe to continue.

“You know, sometimes I wonder, if it were me, would you go so far?”

It’s not silence anymore, he decides, it’s just a sort of peaceful quiet.

“Selfish, isn’t it, to ask that when you were bleeding out like a moron a few days ago,” he sighs, eyes drawn to the moonlight.

“If it were you,” he continues. “I’d do it a thousand times over.”

Of course, there is no response, and he pulls his hand away. Gintoki stirs, as if sensing the disturbance, but remains asleep when Hijikata stands and makes his way out to sit himself on the sofa, leaning forward to place a small carton of strawberry milk on the table.

He eyes the narrow surface, and decides that he’s slept in worse.

He nearly chuckles at his own antics. How Sougo would laugh at him if he ever found out (and knowing the extensive network the brat has somehow established without his permission or knowledge, he probably will within the day). 

Hijikata Toushirou being sentimental.

How uncharacteristic.

He lets his head fall back, eyes flicking once more to the room he just left before sliding close.

It’s fine, he decides.

He’ll be gone before dawn.

**oO0Oo**

In the cramped little room, despite everything, Gintoki smiles.

**oO0Oo**

He runs into Shinpachi on his way out and nods his acknowledgement before trotting down the stairs and making his way through the morning mist. A hell of a lot of paperwork, planning, and a visit to that Sasaki bastard awaits him.

Hell, just thinking about it threatens a headache.

He peers at the clock on his phone, _6:02 A.M._

The boy is early then, probably to take care of that useless boss of his.

Hijikata scoffs as he walks, what guardian is so irresponsible as to have his children take care of him?

He finds himself in the middle of thinking he might have to get Shinpachi some CDs for that when he catches himself and stops dead in his tracks.

_Since fucking when has he been appeasing the Yorozuya’s kids???_

**oO0Oo**

As usual, the Justaway isn’t the thing that wakes him up, mostly because he never actually sets it to ring. But in his defense, _that_ is mostly because he’s got his own custom made yato alarm clock at approximately ten in the morning anyway.

“GIN-CHANNNNN!!!”

He peels open an eye and drags a hand across his face, groaning out the usual “whaaaaat.”

The shoji to his door slides open as violently as it does every morning, and the little yato girl comes bounding in, though instead of pouncing on him immediately, she pulls a sharp brake and looks around the room. 

Seemingly not finding what she’s looking for, she turns on her heel and retreats into the living room, and _just_ as Gintoki thought he might finally get some semblance of peace, the little brat jumps right back in.

“Gin-chan, Gin-chan, where’s Toushi?”

Oh no.

“Ne Kagura, talking about mayonnaise so early in the morning will lead to premature aging, did you know that?”

That elicits a dramatic gasp, just the way he taught her when the heroine of an anime is met with some unstoppable force or terrifying truth, like pimples.

But alas, yato heroines also recover unfortunately fast from their dramatic gasps.

“It’s OK Gin-chan, papi said older girls are more attractive.”

Gintoki would love to say he has a comeback for that.

“Tell me, Gin-chan, where did Toushi go?”

“What makes you think I know??!”

“He came to see you and left strawberry milk on the table! Why didn’t he leave sukonbu for me Gin-chan? Can you tell him to bring sukonbu for me next time? Why didn’t you wake me up so I can say hi? Was it because you two were being disgusting old men like mami used to say papi did? Gin-chan are you and Toushi old men now? Did you infect him with your old man smell? Why do you smell more like old man now? You said you were going to buy perfume with the money we worked a lot for. Where did that money go? Did you use it for that little box? What’s in that litt—”

“Aaand that is enough out of you.” Promptly flipping over, Gintoki forces himself out of the comfort of his futon and shoos Kagura outside, finding Shinpachi already banging pots around in the kitchen doing who knows what, and that little carton of strawberry milk, sitting on the tabletop.

**oO0Oo**

He leaves for literally _2 minutes_ and comes back to a diabetic who is most definitely going against doctor’s orders making himself comfortable in his room.

“What the hell are you doing here?!”

“Taking a nap, of course. Don’t you have eyes, Oogushi-kun?”

“ _You woke up an hour ago!!_ ”

“Your point?”

Hijikata feels his irritation spike.

“Forget my point! Who the hell even let you in here?!”

“Confidential information for the police force only, Hijikata-kunn. Too bad I can’t tell you.”

“ _I AM the fucking police!!_ ”

Huffing, Hijikata sits himself down at the table to sort through the papers strewn across the surface, and nearly jumps out of his skin at the head suddenly set on his shoulder and silver hair in his peripheral vision.

“How the fuck did you get across the room this fast?!!”

“I crawled.”

“You _WHAT_?!”

Attempts to shove Gintoki off of him prove to be futile when the man just worms his way under his arms and makes himself right at home, pillowed on his thighs. Admitting defeat, Hijikata turns back to the table and scratches another quick signature onto pristine parchment.

“There’s a winter festival this Saturday.”

The pen flies across another document.

“And?”

“The kids keep nagging me to go.”

“So?”

“I can’t handle them by myself.” That earns him a glare.

“You’ve been handling them by yourself for months now!”

“But I’m injured, Hijikata-kun. You wouldn’t leave a sick single dad to two kids, would you? Or was I just a toy to you? Huh?”

“I have work!”

“That’s no problem, Hijikata-san, Kondou-san said he’d gladly give you a day off, isn’t that right, Kondou-san?” The lazy voice is followed by the unmistakable sound of a camera snapping.

The urge to throw Gintoki across the room is almost overwhelming, but the faint image of sad, red eyes restrained him.

Barely.

“Besides,” Sougo, snarky little bastard, continues. “I can take over your duties. I’m sure I’ll make a much better vice commander.”

“As if!! You don’t even do your own!”

“Yo Toushi!” That’s it. With a hand on Gintoki’s head, Hijikata promptly shoves the man into a sitting position, ignoring the surprised yelp and quick pout he threw at him.

It’s never worked before, Hijikata cannot grasp why he keeps trying.

“What is it, Kondou-san?”

“Did you hear about the winter festival on Saturday?” The man looks way too excited.

“I was just finding out about it,” he half growls, half replies, sparing another glare at the man picking his nose next to him.

“I was thinking of letting the men have some fun! We can all have that day off!”

“Kondou-san, with the Yoshiwara case and Sadasada’s assassination still-”

“One day can’t hurt! Come on, Toushi, pleeeaaaase.”

“Kondou-san-”

“Yosh! It’s decided then, Saturday is a free day for everyone!”

The commander basically bounces away, and Sougo follows with a purely evil look thrown over his shoulder, giving the camera he’s holding a little wave.

Goddamnit, now Hijikata has to _somehow_ bribe the little sadist into giving that up.

He’s lost count of how many times he’s glared at Gintoki that day. This time, the bastard looks very smug.

“……”

“Ok fine.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it, Hijikata-kun.”

“Shut up.”

**oO0Oo**

“Toushi!”

“Who are you calling Toushi?!”

Gintoki watches Kagura tug on the sleeve of Toushirou’s winter haori so hard he nearly keels over.

“Look! Look! There’s a takoyaki stand! Can we get takoyaki? I hear it’s good for your skin!”

“Who the hell did you hear that from??”

“Pleaaase Toushi, I haven’t had takoyaki in months!”

“Oi oi Kagura, don’t go spreading false information. You had takoyaki two weeks ago. You’re going to make Hijikata-kun think I’m an irresponsible adult!”

“I already know you’re an irresponsible adult!!”

“You wound me, Oogushi-kun. I’ll have you know that I’m only three days behind on rent.”

“Gin-san, we’re one year and three days behind on rent.”

A moment of awkward silence stretches, and Gintoki can just _feel_ the gunmetal glare on his back. He opens his mouth to retort, but he’s saved when Kagura grabs Toushirou’s wrist and practically drags him to the takoyaki stand, Shinpachi scrambling to keep up.

“Good evening sir! Would you like to buy some delicious takoyaki for your children?” The vendor inquires cheerfully, and from where he stayed behind, Gintoki sees a light flush spread across the base of Toushirou’s neck, who looks very ready to snap a denial before he falls prey to the classic blunder: looking at said children. Without the amount of time Gintoki has had to build up some partial immunity to two pairs of _trained_ puppy dog eyes (he’s convinced Sadaharu helps them perfect it when his back is turned), the annoyance in Toushirou’s eyes immediately melts into defeat, and he sighs before digging into his pockets and coming away with his wallet.

“They aren’t my children,” is the best he can do, and it’s little more than a mutter when he hands the money to the vendor and watches Kagura grab the serving out of the poor man’s hand, nearly toppling the entire stand. Shinpachi is much more mild, but excitement sparkles regardless in his eyes when he thanks the vendor then Toushirou and runs off after Kagura to see the other wonders of the festival.

Gintoki takes his time walking up to him, stopping by his side right as Toushirou apologizes to the vendor for Kagura, and thinks he sees a trace of fondness in exasperation.

It’s nice, he thinks, to have someone to turn to.

This is nice.

The light conversation comes to a wrap, and he follows Toushirou a few steps away from the stall, nearly jumping out of his skin when the vice commander suddenly turns around and hands him a serving as well. Surprised, Gintoki just gapes for a few seconds until Toushirou prods him with the paper plate.

“Are you gonna take it or not?”

“Have I ever said no to free food?”

“Then take it!”

“I’m just surprised that Hijikata-kun is being so thoughtful today~” Gintoki teases, taking the tray while Toushirou rolls his eyes before reaching into his jacket to grab what Gintoki just _knows_ is going to be that dreaded yellow bottle. 

So before mayonnaise can ruin everyone’s appetite, he closes the distance between them and captures soft lips with his own. He feels Toushirou tense momentarily before giving in and returning the gesture, taking the wheel from his hands. The faint tinge of cigarettes invades his senses, their breaths mingling in the chilly evening air and white plumes swirling above their heads like smoke on a rainy day. The hustle and bustle of the festival goes on around them, sweet aromas and happy chatter encasing them on the chilly breeze, but Gintoki finds himself caught in Toushirou’s warmth when a hand cups the back of his head and brings him closer.

Their foreheads brush, dark hair tickling the bridge of his nose, and it’s so familiar. It’s a feeling of belonging no one else had quite given him before, with Toushirou’s lips parting and inviting on his, close enough for their scarves to tangle, soft and gentle but craving more, a quiet ravenous urge masked by the festival’s muted atmosphere.

A part of Gintoki wants to stay there forever, wants time to stop ticking and the world to stop spinning just so he can trap Toushirou in this one moment and kiss him for eternity and beyond, but the moment ends too quickly, another thing, however small, time has pried from his grasp. They pull away to breathe, and Gintoki looks into beautiful, intense blue eyes, blurred a little by the mingled clouds still rising between them, and prays that whatever else the world may take from him, Hijikata Toushirou will not be one of them.

The only way to make sure of that, Gintoki thinks, is to claim him before the world does. He’s selfish, he knows, but he wants to be. Just this once.

“Gin-chan!!!” Toushirou pulls away fully at Kagura’s voice, and smacks Gintoki’s shoulder.

“Go take care of your kids.” Gintoki groans at the order, but follows Kagura’s voice back into the crowd, popping one of the takoyaki balls into his mouth.

“Whaaaaaat.”

“Look at that look at that!” She grabs his arm and points excitedly to a stall a small distance away, large stuffed animals hanging from hooks around the vendor, who speaks animatedly to a group of wide eyed children, gesturing and pointing at the toy guns placed along the counter. “I want one!” Kagura declares, pulling him towards the game, Toushirou on her other side. “You always say you’re good at games, Gin-chan! Can you win one for me? Pleeeaaaaase!”

“Win one yourself!”

“But it’s not fun that way! Someone has to win it for me! Papi always said that it has more ‘sentiment.’”

“Do you even know what that word means?” Gintoki questions.

“Do _you_ even know what that word means??” Is the immediate followup from Toushirou, and Gintoki sends him a side glare.

“Nope!” Kagura says, completely unbothered. “But it sounds cool! So Gin-chan, you should give me the ‘sentiment’ and win a stuffed animal for me!”

“Well I say that there’s more sentiment in winning one for yourself, so run along.”

“But papi said-”

“Are you going to listen to your space dad or Earth dad? Well we’re on Earth right now, so you have to believe me when I tell you things.”

“But Gin-channnnnn!” Next to her, Toushirou chuckles, and Gintoki is momentarily stunned at the sound. He doesn’t usually get a lot more than a light smile here or there, and even Kondou rarely gets anything more than that. He thinks he should probably feel honored.

“Hijikata-san, heads up.”

“GET DOWN!!”

Then Gintoki is shoved face first into the dirt road when the explosion goes off, and when the dust clears, Kagura is locked in, for all intents and purposes, a catfight, with Sougo while Shinpachi desperately tries to stop them from disturbing the stalls. Next to him, Toushirou seems just about ready to force the brat into seppuku himself. 

“Oi Sofa-kun, what grudge do you have against me??” Gintoki yells at the little sadist as he gets up slowly and dusts himself off, a dull throbbing flaring to life beneath the bandages that still snake around his arms and torso. Looking around, he recognizes a few of the Shinsengumi’s men mingling in casual wear amongst the crowd.

“Little bastard!” Toushirou’s hand is on the hilt of his katana, already half a step away before he stops abruptly, slightly narrowed eyes scanning Gintoki’s face, and he realizes that he must have been frowning or something to give away the discomfort.

Hurriedly, he wipes away any expression out of place and raises an eyebrow under Toushirou’s interrogating gaze.

Too late.

The katana clicks back into its sheath, and Toushirou does nothing more than level Sougo with a glare, one he doesn’t even see, for that matter, given he’s too busy holding Kagura’s takoyaki tray above his head.

The three kids disappear into the crowd soon enough, and Toushirou’s gaze returns to Gintoki, who looks right back and sticks another takoyaki into his mouth from the tray he had somehow protected during Souichirou-kun's assault.

“Gin-san!” Their eyes simultaneously slide towards Shinpachi where he had given up on trying to stop Sougo and Kagura on their rampage. Fair enough, Gintoki wouldn’t want to be in their way either. The boy starts making his way back to them, much to Gintoki’s chagrin, because he has to admit, the wear and tear on his body is taking its toll, and the sudden jostle didn’t do him any favors.

But before Shinpachi can get to them, Toushirou greets him halfway, and Gintoki hears him mention something about Shinpachi’s sister and that stalker of a gorilla.

The boy’s eyes widen under his round rimmed glasses, and he takes off down the road. Toushirou turns and walks back to him, and Gintoki allows himself to put his head on his shoulder.

**oO0Oo**

His hands involuntarily settle on Gintoki’s shoulders and pull him in.

It wasn’t just the light frown that had given it away, but also the heaviness in his eyes a lift of the brow couldn’t hide. He wonders once more about the things that happened in times long gone that left such scars. He wonders what memories are responsible for the moments when maroon eyes aren’t quite present, when the silver light dulls and even his hair doesn’t seem as curly.

He wants to be selfish, Toushirou thinks. He wants to keep Gintoki by his side forever so he can chase away the demons in his eyes and the shadows in his dreams. But then he thinks about the people who love him. The children who bother him everyday, the women who watch him with longing and admiration, and the terrorists who would call him a friend.

Toushirou knows that Gintoki belongs to the world, to everyone and no one all at once. He knows that regardless of how hard he wishes, he cannot tether Gintoki to him the very way he couldn’t tether himself to Mitsuba.

And it hurts. It does. Just a little. It hurts to know that there will never be a fixed place for him in Gintoki’s heart because its chambers are so constantly shifting to accomodate all those he holds dear. One day, Toushirou thinks, someone will come along who can give Gintoki a family, who can grow old with him and hold his hand when they bicker and watch their grandchildren on some playground, and for whom Gintoki will empty out a room in his heart and keep it forever theirs. 

“We’re going to sit down,” Toushirou says.

“Ok.”

**oO0Oo**

The bench they find in the little park is a quiet place, and Toushirou watches the stars with Gintoki’s head on his shoulder.

It’s nice, Toushirou thinks, for Gintoki to show him his most vulnerable.

This is nice.

“Hijikata.” Toushirou aims a slightly surprised gaze at Gintoki. The bastard never calls him by name alone.

“What?”

“Did I ever tell you about how I got the name Shiroyasha.” His eyebrows tick upwards at the question, equal parts confusion and anticipation seizing his heart, and he wonders why him, and not someone who understood him a little better.

But he replies, “no.”

“It’s a long story.”

Toushirou glances at his phone. _8:42 P.M._

“We have time.”

“It’ll take up the anime’s run time.” There goes the dumbass breaking the fourth wall again. Someone really oughta pound the idea of being a fictional character through his damn perms and into his brain.

“Are you gonna tell me or not?” Gintoki chuckles, and lifts his head off Toushirou’s shoulder to look up at the stars.

“Yeah.”

**oO0Oo**

He tells him everything.

He tells him of the corpse eating demon, and the young boy trying to survive amidst the horrors of war. He tells him of the smile that prompted him onto the battlefield and the three who fought at his side. He tells him of the demon in white people spoke of and the hero his comrades thought he was. He tells him of a cold gaze on the opposite front line and gray hair a shade darker than his own.

Then he tells him of the same cold eyes watching him in the shadows of Yoshiwara, and of the crow who cheated death and flew away.

He tells him of secrets that he always wanted to know, of the nooks and crannies of his heart that he always longed to understand, and of the scars he always wished to soothe.

Gintoki still watches the stars, leaving Toushirou to watch his profile outlined against the night sky, and wonder whether this means he has a spot in Gintoki’s heart after all, that maybe that tiny little corner belongs to him.

“Why did you tell me?” He asks.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Gintoki replies. “Felt like a good time.” And that is final, so Toushirou just lights a cigarette. “Look,” he looks up. “A shooting star.” Toushirou follows Gintoki’s finger, and sees the little spirit-like light soar across the open sky. “Make a wish.”

Toushirou looks away from the star, and shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he says. It won’t make a difference whether or not that star hears his prayer and carries it to the ends of the universe. After all, what can a star do to change a heart?

Gintoki huffs a laugh. “Yeah, you’re right.”

As long as he can keep him close, it’s ok. As long as his sword can reach far enough to touch the hilt of Gintoki’s bokuto, it’s fine. He won’t be able to fight by his side, but at least he’ll be able to watch his back. That way, he’ll be able to keep his silhouette silver for the person who will see it, and chase after it, who will catch up in a way Toushirou never did, and take his hand to lead him away from a path of violence.

But before that, Toushirou is going to be selfish for as long as Gintoki allows.

“Toushi!” He perks up at Kondou’s voice, and immediately rises from the bench to greet his commander.

“What is it, Kondou-san? Did something come up back at headquarters?” Kondou shakes his head.

“Have you seen Otae-san anywhere? My good brother-in-law came by and they went off together. I haven’t been able to find them since!” Toushirou inwardly sighs. Of course it would be about that woman. Looking his commander up and down, Toushirou is genuinely surprised he doesn’t have a limb ripped off somewhere.

“No,” he says, dutifully. “I haven’t.”

“Oh,” Kondou deflates, but Toushirou feels like something is a little off. Kondou’s eyes keep darting behind him, and his inquiries about the gorilla woman doesn’t seem as desperate as they usually do.

“Kondou-san, is something wrong?” Kondou’s eyes snap back to him, and he smiles wide. Now Toushirou definitely knows something is going on, suspicious eyes catching his commander’s gaze through the lazy film of smoke still rising from the cigarette.

“Nothing, Toushi,” he says, still smiling. “Turn around.”

**oO0Oo**

Gintoki kneels, and pulls out the little box from his pocket.

When Toushirou turns, he sees the cigarette drop from between his lips.

“Toushirou,” he says. “Marry me?” 

Gunmetal eyes are wide, stunned, but it lasts only a moment.

“Yes.”

**oO0Oo**

Gintoki is only halfway to his feet when Toushirou pulls him in and their lips meet in a burst of heat and sensation. Gintoki rises to meet him halfway, and he buries his hands in silver curls, every sense tingling when Gintoki wraps his arms around his neck, parting lips slightly chapped underneath his own. He dives in, replacing the gentleness that peppered their previous kiss with hot breaths and a harsh collision of tongue and teeth and an eternal claim as _mine, mine, mine._

It takes them long seconds to pull apart, and Toushirou finally grows aware of the cheering that rises from all around them, his men clapping and whistling and yelling their congratulations into the night air. 

Their foreheads are still pressed together, the tips of their noses just brushing, and Toushirou finds that a small smile lingers at the corners of his own lips.

He has a place, he thinks, in that man’s heart, and gods be damned if he isn’t going to lay claim to that little space as if the sun will not rise in the morning.

“Do you remember what you asked me that night?” Gintoki suddenly whispers, maroon eyes rough when they meet Toushirou’s own.

_You know, sometimes I wonder, if it were me, would you go so far?_

“For you, a thousand times over,” he says, and slips the ring onto Toushirou’s hand.

The metal is cold against his finger, and Toushirou closes his fist around the lifelong promise.

_From this moment on, Yorozuya, you’re mine._


End file.
